Returning
by MorningStar0804
Summary: Of course, with Harry Potter's luck, right after he was 'killed' in the Forbidden Forest he was sent back in time. Even better, it was the year of his parents' seventh year! He is left to hide his dark secrets as he poses as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year. But secrets were meant to be told.
1. Chapter 1

Harry glared resolutely into the crimson eyes of Voldemort, similar to that of freshly spilled blood. The Death Eaters surrounding them watched in anticipation from the cover of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In the distance, the sound of fierce battling could be heard, the futile efforts in preventing Tom Riddle's rule evident.

It was ironic, Harry was thinking. Almost like he was gazing into the eyes of death itself- a poetic end, in some ways.

He stood, alone and unarmed, as he prepared for his end. Defiance burned in his blazing emerald eyes, but he was helpless against Death's agenda. A single voice cut through the tense silence of the clearing:

"Avada Kedavra!" A bright light. Screams. Falling.

And then Harry Potter was no more.

XxXxXxXxXx

The ground was hard beneath his face. The peaceful rustling of trees disturbed his slumber, and he sat up, wiping his eyes groggily in the piercing-cold wind. And the his memories of the previous day returned- the battle of Hogwarts, the forest, Voldemort, a sudden green light-

Harry James Potter jumped up suddenly, painfully alert to his surroundings. He had not moved an inch from where he had fallen, but now the clearing was eerily silent, with no evidence of the previous struggle. He surveyed his surroundings, realising with a start that there was an unfamiliar trunk sitting next to him. It most definitely hadn't been there the night before. Hogwarts could be seen in the distance, although it seemed to have been cleared from all evidence of the battle.

Harry cautiously opened the trunk beside him, wary of the possibility of a trap. It contained what seemed to be his usual school supplies- his clothes, books, Firebolt, invisibility cloak, Marauders map, and various other items. But why? He hadn't returned to his seventh year at Hogwarts because of the horcrux hunt, and had not used these things since his sixth year. Why was he alive? He could vividly recall his final duel with Voldemort, which ended in Voldemort's killing curse. So surely he should be dead?

With these these thoughts in his head, he began the short trek to the castle. Hopefully he could find answers there.

As he crossed the grounds, he noted many other suspiciously different things about the grounds. Hadn't most of the castle been destroyed during the battle? Magic could do many things, but it didn't seem possible that so much could be fixed in such a short amount of time.

Eventually, Harry found himself standing outside what had been Dumbledore's office. He regarded the stone gargoyles suspiciously as they remained immobile, and he tried to think of what the password might be. However, before he could start guessing, the doors span open and he had to stifle a gasp at what they revealed.

"Dumbledore?" He tried not to show his shock at seeing the man he had believed to be dead for the past year. Of course, he always seemed to do what was least expected.

The old man's eyes twinkled merrily. "Ah! Professor Potter! I've been expecting you," he said, and Harry yet again had to conceal his surprise.

Professor? Expecting him? What on earth was happening here? Harry had already concluded that something was amiss, but this seemed just over-the-top. What had happened during that battle.

"Follow me up to my office, and we can discuss our matters more privately," he said, before leading the clueless boy up the spiralling staircase.

Harry observed the headmaster as he followed behind him. Something was amiss about him. His face seemed to contain less lines, his beard slightly shorter. The only excuse for his appearance could be a de-aging potion. Had he gotten on the wrong side of Snape?

The duo entered Dumbledore's office, Harry's thoughts whirling, when he took notice of the calendar on the wall. Harry had always thought it an odd edition to the Headmaster's office, but right now he could only be grateful. The calendar did not read the date he expected. Instead, it read 1st September 1978. Harry looked on in shock. He had travelled into the past then? At least that explained Dumbledore's reasoning for being here.

Presently, Dumbledore began to speak.

"Here's your timetable then, Professor Potter, and a list of your students. Some of them are a bit of a handful, but I get the feeling that they won't be too much of a bother to you. Term begins tomorrow. Do you have any questions?" At Harry's mute nod, he continued, "Well then, I'll show you to your quarters then."

Dumbledore then strode out of the office, with Harry following dazedly behind, his mind whirling to absorb all the new information that it was being fed. He started wondering how he got there. It seemed unlikely that Voldemort had armed him with a time-turner, what with him trying to kill Harry and all. Eventually, Harry just blamed the terrific luck that had surrounded him lately.

The pair walked through the unusually silent hallways, hundreds of portraits' eyes following their every move. Harry watched uneasily as he tried (and failed) to stop himself from recollecting the last memories he had of this place.

Eventually, he was led to the all-too-familiar room that had housed Quirrel, Lockheart, Lupin, Umbritch, Moody/Crouch and Snape. The room was mercifully blank from whoever its past occupant was, although Harry almost expected to see a boggart in the corner, or a pink pillow on the chair which, he told himself, was completely unreasonable, since they would not set foot into this room for years to come.

Harry collapsed onto the desk chair. This had been a long few days. He had returned to Hogwarts after a year of horcrux hunting, only to find himself a battle he was not only unprepared to fight for, but also almost guaranteed to die. However, defying all odds, he had lived, travelled through time, and now was teaching defence in a time he knew nothing about! Only the best luck for Harry Potter the boy-who-lived.

Being on the run hadn't done any favours for his appearance. His face was unshaven, his clothes rumpled and dirty and his hair was clearly due for a haircut. Not only this, but fatigue had also effected him. After months of watching his every move and constantly looking over his shoulder, he had grown jumpy and suspicious to every shadow.

He examined the documents in front of him. It contained an abundance of personal information- according to which he had been homeschooled since birth - along with a load of unnecessary information on the castle, his schedule and class list. His first class was at nine thirty, the Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh year. While he was examining this, another sheet of paper fell to the floor. He picked it up, paying little mind. It was only his class list. However, one name made him do a double-take. Harry re-checked the list and sure enough, there lay the names: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Of course he was going to be teaching his parents. Potter luck, you see.

It was going to be a long year.


	2. Chapter 2

James Potter sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. It was his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, after which he would be unleashed into the wide world. He was sat with his best mates: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, along with his girlfriend Lily Evans.

Sirius turned to James.

"Oi Prongs, you seen the new defence teacher?"

James turned to look up to the head table. In the seat next to McGonnagal sat un unfamiliar teacher. He had jet black hair that sat messily slightly below his shoulders, an unshaven face and blazing emerald eyes. Overall, he had a very rugged appearance, but pulled it off well.

"Yeah. What's his name?"

"'Dunno. Never seen him before. Do you think he's an auror?" Sirius said.

"Nah. He doesn't seem the type, and Dad would've mentioned him before."

At that moment, Dumbledore chose to stand.

"Welcome students, new and old!" He exclaimed, turning his Grandfatherly gaze to the newly-sorted students. "I would like to remind all students that the Forbidden Forest is just that- forbidden. A list of all banned items has been placed on the door of the caretaker's office. Mr Filch would like to remind you that any magic is prohibited outside of classes. Lastly, it gives me great pleasure to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher: professor Potter!"

Professor Potter waved half-heartedly to the students, and Remus turned to face James.

"Potter? Any relation?"

James considered. "Nah. At least, not that I know of."

Lily joined the conversation. "Potter's quite a common name in the muggle world. He might have muggle relations."

James nodded, but wasn't so sure. There was something familiar about him, be it his hair or eyes...

XxXxXxXx

Harry's eyes swept along the entirety of the hall, examining it for potential threats, when something- or rather, someone- caught his eye. At the far end of the Gryffindor table sat a group of friends that he recognised from before. There sat the Marauders and his Mother. They appeared to be deep in conversation but, as soon as he turned his eyes to them they all met his eyes. Harry turned hurriedly away, instead facing the Slytherin table, where he noticed Severus Snape was sat alone.

Abruptly, Harry was reminded of his last memories of his former potions teacher. Nagini. The pensieve. He understood slightly better the man's actions towards himself, but they didn't excuse him for his actions during his time in Hogwarts.

Dragging his eyes onto the plate in front of him, Harry pondered his own situation. So his scar was a horcrux? That was a new development. Had it been destroyed by the killing curse that had been shot at him? Or did it still reside in his head? A shudder shot down his back at the thought of a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him, dearly hoping for the former option.

Dumbledore stood up and began his start-of-year-speech. A flicker of doubt had been planted in his head, and the words 'a pig for slaughter' ran through his mind. Dumbledore knew all along that Harry would have to die. So much for his previous trust in the headmaster- that had been broken the moment his face had broke the surface of the pensieve.

XxXxXxXx

Harry watched nervously as his first class took their seats. Harry Potter everyone: defeater of Voldemort, surviver of two killing curses, is nervous about teaching a group of adolescents magic.

Harry gritted his teeth as one certain person entered the room. Peter Pettigrew. He had almost forgotten about him. Was he a Death Eater yet? Was he aware of how his future would play out? Was he still prepared to betray his closest friends?

He shoved those thoughts aside as the rest of the class filtered into the room, many faces that were familiar to him. If only there were a way to save them from their fates... Hermione's voice rang through his head:' _you can't mess with time'._

He sighed helplessly, watching as the Marauders strolled into the classroom, conversing in hushed voices between themselves. They cast many badly hidden glances in his direction as they took their seats at the back of the room, and Harry couldn't help but raise a suspicious eyebrow as they took their seats in the back of the room.

Harry swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat when he glimpsed Sirius's face. So similar, and yet so different to the person he had lost. His eyes without the excess weight added to them from his years in Azkaban, his frame less angular from the years of malnourishment. And then there was James. His face so similar to that of Harry's own, with the addition of James's own wide hazel eyes peering back at him.

With a jolt, Harry realised that the students were awaiting him to begin the class. He had yet to grow used to the art of teaching. With an uncomfortable cough, he began.

"As you all know, I'm Professor Potter, and I'm now your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Can anyone tell me where your last professor left off?"

Multiple hands raised, and after he had gotten a grasp of their curriculum, he began his first lesson.

"Who can tell me what they know of Boggarts?" How ironic, Harry thought, as a much younger Remus raised his hand, that he was teaching his future professor what they would be later teaching him. "Yes, Mr Lupin?"

"They are magical creatures that take the form of your worst fears, Professor," he recited, and Harry nodded.

"Indeed. No one is certain of their natural form, and there are no ways of knowing it. Can anyone tell me the spell to get rid of them?" When no one answered, he continued. "The incantation is _ridikulus_ , although what really gets rid of them is laughter. When one appears, you recite the incantation, and focus on something that causes laughter. Understood?"

Almost all members of the class nodded their eyes, and Harry turned his eyes to those who hadn't.

"Mr Potter and Black, anything you wish to share with the class?"

The two boys ended the discussion, and Sirius spoke:

"Nah, sir, we were just wondering how old you are." Harry almost laughed as everyone pricked their ears for the answer. Ron had always teased him about his less-than-average-height, and it made sense that they would want to know.

"I'm eighteen, although I fail to see how that is relative to today's lesson."

James raised his eyebrows.

"But Professor that's, like, the same age as us!" He said sceptically. "You can't have even finished your seventh year yet!"

Harry could almost feel his face darken. "No, I haven't finished my schooling, but I have experienced more than enough to teach a group of teenagers. Moving swiftly on, we just so happen to have a Boggart in the staffroom -for reasons you don't want to know, and I wish not to explain- that we will be able to practise on today." Harry gestured to the rattling trunk that was sat in front of his desk. "Line up in an orderly fashion, everyone will get a turn."

The class did so, and Harry took note of the many students who seemed to shy away from the deceivingly innocent trunk.

"Remember: the incantation is _ridikulus,"_ he repeated _._

The first student in line was a Slytherin boy whom Harry was not familiar with. His Boggart was a spider- Harry was reminded painfully of Ron- which was then changed into a barking puppy.

The class was soon drawing to a close, and the Marauders were some of the last ones in the queue. Sirius's Boggart was someone who looked suspiciously like the screaming portrait in Grimmauld Place- his mother. James's was Remus, Sirius, Peter and Lily dead; Remus's was still the full moon; and Peter's was Voldemort (how unoriginal, Harry mused).

Before he knew it, it was time for the end of the lesson. Harry braced himself before stepping up to the spinning Boggart, and immediately regretted it. He hadn't come across a Boggart for a while, and was glad of it.

A gleaming emerald light shot towards him, glittering crimson eyes and a bone-white wand at the base of it. Harry instinctively dove out of the way, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He almost shouted out a curse, but quickly changed to _ridikulus._ The light quickly disappeared, and Harry banished the Boggart back into the trunk. He turned, shaking, to the gaping class.

"Class dismissed."


	3. Chapter 3

The Marauders collapsed onto their respective beds in their dorm room after a long first day.

"So what do you guys think of the Defence teacher?" James asked, breaking the relative silence of the usually chaotic room.

"He seems alright," Sirius mused.

"He's great!" Exclaimed Peter.

"Did any of you notice his Boggart, though?" Remus questioned.

His enquiry was met with silence as the four boys flashed back to their first lesson of the day. The flash of emerald light was still fresh in their minds, which were teeming with unanswered questions.

"What was that green light?" Peter asked obliviously. Sirius sighed.

"The killing curse, one of the Unforgiveables," he answered.

"Oh," Peter finished dumbly, cheeks flushing.

"Did any of you see what was behind it?" Said Remus.

"Oh yeah. Wasn't it a red eye, or something?" Sirius said.

"I believe so. There was a wand, too."

"Who's was it?" Said James.

His question was answered by the deafening lack of speech.

"Do you think he's Dark?" Sirius asked, a hint nervously.

"Maybe," James pondered. "I mean, what wizard that isn't Dark has seen the killing curse up close?"

"You never know," Remus defended. "He might have seen someone murdered by You-Know-Who. It was one of our best lessons in a while, though."

"Let's go down for dinner now, we can talk about it later. I'm starving!" Peter jumped up eagerly.

The Marauders traipsed out of the room, making their way to the Great Hall.

XxXxXxXxXx

Harry almost groaned from his position at the head table in the Great Hall. His first day had passed relatively well after his bad start, but it seemed that word had already spread of his disastrous first lesson, in which his Boggart was revealed. He noticed multiple sidelong-glances in his general direction, and even Dumbledore seemed concerned, having lost the omnipresent twinkle in his eyes.

It seemed that whatever time he was in, Harry was cursed to be the centre of attention- just what he needed right now.

But was it really that uncommon for these kids to have seen a killing curse? Was this not a time of war? It didn't seem to all add up.

Perhaps it was his reaction that startled them. It must have seemed odd from an outsiders perspective on how badly the curse terrified him.

Eventually, Harry gave up in his reasoning, finding no possible sensible outcomes. He'd noticed that in the hallways, people had tended to give him a wide berth, and he had heard whispers of him being a Dark wizard and Death Eater. The thought was almost laughable. Oh, if only they knew.

He couldn't stop thinking about that damn light. It had seemed so real, so similar to the one he had experienced just the day before, still fresh in his mind. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the crippling fear that was threatening to overcome him. A blinding light, speeding towards his face. Crimson eyes, the colour of freshly spilled blood, laughing as they gloated Harry's simple defeat...

He could still hear phantom screams of the dead and dying echo through the ancient walls. And suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings, like nothing had ever happened.

He had to get out of that Hall. Away from their curious looks and accusing glances. Away.

Dinner was almost over, so no one was overly suspicious of his sudden disappearance from the head table.

That is, beside one group of friends.

The Marauders followed every move of their new professor after his unannounced ascent from his chair. They all exchanged a glance, and, with unanimous agreement, followed after him.

James draped the invisibility cloak over the four friends they hurried after Professor Potter's hurriedly retreating figure, who quickly disappeared after muttering a password to a portrait. The Marauders quickly slipped through the door, though not without difficulty.

Harry sat at his desk, head in hands, as he struggled to overcome his flashbacks pf the recent (or rather, future) battle. In his hands he held a wizard photo- courtesy of Colin Creevy- of him, Ron and Hermione in their third year, sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Harry were laughing hysterically at something, and Hermione sat next to them, rolling her eyes in an exasperated manner at her friends antics.

Harry smiled wistfully down at the photo- they had been so young, so innocent- and yet, they had already seen so much. He missed the days when his biggest problem had been Hermione's nagging to do homework, or Ron complaining about said homework. If only everything were still so simple.

The Marauders edged closer cautiously, eager to catch a glimpse of the concealed photo.

As they neared the desk, Harry glanced up. A year of being on the run had taught him to watch his back, to be suspicious of every shadow- and he could have sworn he had heard the slightest rustle, just mere feet away from his desk.

And there it was again. He shot up from his desk and, within seconds, his attackers were bound tightly together. He examined the air as he searched for their concealed bodies and- there! A slight ripple, hardly noticeable, disturbed the air. He lunged forward, pulling away the invisibility cloak, to reveal the wide-eyed, frantic-looking Marauders. Harry almost laughed in his relief as he unbound them, but settled instead for a scowl.

"And what might you four be doing in my chambers?"

Peter gulped as his narrowed eyes settled on him- this was one terrifying man.

"You know what, I don't think I want to know. You'd better get going now- I'm not a nice person when angered. And id better not catch you four sneaking around any time soon. I won't be nearly as lenient next time I catch you."

Harry gestured towards the door, and the Marauders scurried away, tails between their legs.

XxXxXxXxXx

James, Peter, Sirius and Remus all ran into the Gryffindor common room, ignoring Lily's knowing looks, and settled into a sofa in an obscure corner as they prepared to discuss their latest adventure. Peter was the first to speak.

"That guy's terrifying!" The others found themselves nodding in agreement. He was even scarier than McGonnagal when angered.

"How did he see us? We were under the Cloak! It was almost like he was waiting for us!" James exclaimed.

"Yeah, but did any of you see what was in that picture?" Remus asked. At their shaken heads, he continued, "He was in the Gryffindor common room with two other people- I didn't get a good look at them, though."

Sirius frowned. "Wouldn't we recognise him if he attended Hogwarts? He would've been in our year, after all!"

"That's the thing though: he didn't attend Hogwarts."

Another item was added to their list of growing mysteries about their new professor.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry regarded his seventh year class warily, hoping dearly that today's lesson would not be reminiscent of their last.

He could already tell that the Marauders were up to something, judging from their frequent glances at each other. After their latest stunt, nothing would surprise him anymore.

Why they had ever done it, though, he would never know. Were they suspicious of him? That was unlikely, he had been trying his best to remain under the radar. Perhaps mere curiosity? That was the more logical.

Shoving these thoughts aside, Harry began their lesson.

"Today, we are going to be learning duelling." This was met by various degrees of excitement from the class. Harry had been astonished to find that these students had not yet learned the basics of it, when he himself had learned it in his second year.

Snape raised his head from his position at the back of the class, where he had previously been trying to remain inconspicuous. "Excuse me, _sir_ , but how are we supposed to be learning from _you_ , when you're our age?" He sneered.

Harry could almost feel his face harden.

"Mr Snape, please come to the front." He complied, though reluctantly. "I'm assuming that, since you feel the need to question my authority, you are aware of the basics of duelling?"

Snape gave a stiff nod.

"Well then, I believe we have found a volunteer. Stand opposite me, right there. And now, we bow." He followed each of the orders, his omnipresent sneer still in place.

"On the count of three: one...two...three!"

And they began.

Snape made the first move, shooting a stupefy, which Harry easily dodged and went zooming over his shoulder. They continued like this, Snape on the offensive, while Harry remained on the defence, dodging and occasionally shooting off a protego.

Within minutes of this routine, Snape was growing impatient. He had resorted to spells that were borderline Dark, which were quickly loosing accuracy in his frustration. Snape never had been one for patience, Harry mused.

After a few short moments, Harry was able to catch Snape off guard with an expeliarmus, and the duel was immediately over, with Harry emerging victorious. He turned to the awed onlookers.

"Mr Snape's mistake was his technique. In duelling, you must play smart, not hard. It's not a race, it's a battle of patience. Everyone get into pairs and practise mock-duels."

The students obeyed, and Harry noticed more than one awed look in his direction. It was a well known fact of Snape's abundance of talent in duelling, as well as his tendency towards the Dark arts- it seemed highly unlikely that many people could beat him.

Harry stood in the corner of the classroom, silently observing the flying spells that were flying to-and-fro around the classroom. Occasionally he would intervene with a student to correct either their spell pronunciation or wand movement, but mostly he left them to their own devices so he could note their techniques.

Harry noticed that the most competent fighter was Snape. However, his position was closely followed by none other than James Potter, who was valiantly duelling against Sirius. Lily and Re mrs were duelling against each other, and both were proving to be rather great.

Overall, Harry found his seventh years to be an extraordinary class- compared to his back home, at least. But then, that might be partially due to the motivation of the war hanging over their heads.

That could prove to be a rather large factor to take into consideration.

XxXxXxXxXx

Harry cooly regarded the Great Hall before him. It had now been almost a week since he had arrived in this time, and he liked to think that he had settled in rather well, despite his rocky start. The rumours from the first lesson had died down by then, and he was widely regarded as an all-round great teacher.

He had earned a reputation as quite laid-back, but not the sort people were keen to get on the bad side of. He was a bit like McGonagal in that respect.

Needless to say, he was very suspicious when he saw an unfamiliar owl deposit an unmarked letter beside his plate at dinner, right next to his pumpkin juice. He had made no efforts to contact anyone outside of Hogwarts, and could see no reason of why anyone would wish to send anything to him. The manilla envelope bore only his name inscribed in elegant ebony script, with no other indication to its contents.

In a manner that would make Mad-Eye scowl in disdain, Harry tore into the letter, despite its unexpected appearance. He half hoped that it would be from one of his old friends, no matter how much he told himself his ridiculous the thought was.

The second his palm touched the thick parchment, Harry felt a tugging sensation round his middle, and then he passed out.

XxXxXxXxXx

A shadowed figure kneeled before the throne of Voldemort, shrouded in a dark cloak and face concealed behind a white mask.

"Rise, Wormtail," hissed the Dark Lord, and Peter Pettigrew obeyed, not daring to meet his Lord's eyes.

"You come with news?" Voldemort propped lazily, though his crimson eyes betrayed his controlled facade as they gleamed in anticipation.

"Y-yes, my Lord. I come with news of the new Defence teacher at Hogwarts," Pettigrew stuttered in fear.

"What of him?"

Pettigrew hurried to reveal his knowledge. "He is a very competent duellist- he was able to beat Severus Snape in a one-on-one duel, and there are many rumours of him being Dark, my Lord."

Voldemort mulled over his newfound information. "What did you say his name was?"

"Harry Potter, my Lord."

"Interesting. You may leave, my loyal servant," he hissed.

Wormtail scurried out of the room before his master could decide to curse him.

Voldemort, meanwhile, was deep in thought. A Potter, Dark? It seemed odd, since the Potters had been notoriously light for many centuries now. However, it wasn't impossible that one of them had finally chosen the better path.

He'd never heard of a Harry Potter- was he perhaps cast out of the family? It seemed likely, if he was Dark.

After Voldemort had ran multiple theories on this mysterious man, he began to plot.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

Harry groaned as he regained consciousness, struggling to sit up on the cold stone floor. A cold draft had filled the place where he lay, and he froze when he heard a sickeningly familiar voice:

"Greetings, Harry Potter."

He span around, where he was met by the cold crimson eyes of Voldemort.

The next thing he was aware of, his feeble occlumency shields had fallen, and the Dark Lord was in his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Sorry it's late. Life got in the way.**

Harry could only watch helplessly as his entire life, literally, flashed before his eyes. He was forced to endure an overly-graphic recount of his entire life- the Philosopher's stone, fighting the basilisk, the graveyard, Sirius falling through the veil, his year on the run... the list was endless.

What felt like a lifetime later, the Dark Lord released his hold on Harry's mind with a feral grin, his crimson eyes gleaming with an infuriating smugness.

"Harry Potter," he mused. "How marvellous to make your acquaintance... again." Many of the Death Eaters that had materialised around the carnivorous room exchanged bewildered glances at this point. This boy had already met their Lord? And was alive to tell the tale?

"Tom," Harry spat. Voldemort shot him a murderous glare, and his deadly eyes filled with a sudden epiphany.

"Ah yes... I suppose I could have a lot of fun with you now, couldn't I? Wormtail!" He barked out suddenly. "Take him to the dungeons!"

Harry was, at this point, growing frustrated. Of course it would be that as soon as he had killed Voldemort and destroyed his horcruxes he would manage to come back. Damn Potter luck. He mourned what little social life he had developed over the past week.

Wormtail lead Harry down to the dungeons, which Harry unfortunately recognised from his unwelcome time spent in Malfoy Manor. Peter was repeatedly throwing anxious glances towards Harry, as though he might give him a detention. Harry only wished he could. He could barely restrain himself from throwing himself at the traitor.

Harry then proceeded to be thrown onto the floor of the cell, where Wormtail then locked the door and left with a parting nervous glance.

XxXxXxXxXx

Dumbledore was not having a good day. It all started off when he awoke to find himself flooded with news of Voldemort's latest attack on the Ministry- five aurors were pronounced dead, with many more injured. He was then required to reply to said letters, which all in all took up the best part of the day.

Dumbledore was informed, by an anonymous source, later that day, of an unexpected Death Eater meeting, adding to that list.

And then, just to top it all off, his Defence teacher had disappeared from the Great Hall without a trace. Dumbledore himself had always been wary of the man- he had too little knowledge on him to be comfortable- but he was desperate in his search for a teacher. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Overall, Dumbledore was extremely suspicious of his inexplicable disappearance- it was far too close to that of the the Death Eater meeting, in his opinion. It was hardly likely to be a coincidence, given the Wizarding World's current state of affairs- it was almost impossible to tell Light from Dark these days.

Nevertheless, Dumbledore could only stare in shock at the place where Professor Potter had sat only moments ago. The entire hall filled with silence, before a hushed murmuring filled the hall as people struggled to comprehend the phenomenon.

XxXxXxXxXx

James was speaking to Sirius loudly on an inconsequential matter when it happened. Remus had been gazing up at the Head table at their Defence teacher. Potter had been opening a piece of unmarked mail, when he seemed to suddenly just disappear, with no evidence of him formerly being there.

Remus gasped, unsure if what he had just seen. But no, many other people appeared to have seen it too- the hall had become momentarily silent, before suddenly exploding in a hushed muttering.

Even Dumbledore seemed baffled - he was merely gaping in astonishment at the place in which the professor had previously sat just seconds ago, unsure of how to react to the strange occurrence.

James turned abruptly to Remus.

"What happened?" Remus almost rolled his eyes. Almost. Trust James to be paying zero attention to his surroundings.

Remus gestured to the head table, and both James and Sirius turned to face it.

"Where'd Professor Potter go?" Sirius asked, frowning.

Remus groaned, and Dumbledore seemed to jump out of his stupor as he stood up from his chair.

"Students, your attention please! As I'm sure most of you are aware, one of your professors had vanished. I assure you we will be looking into this matter, but for now we request that all students return to their common rooms," he said loudly.

The Great Hall was filled with the sounds of groaning as the students got to their feet.

"C'mon, Padfoot." Remus said. "We need to leave."

The trio made their way to the Gryffindor common room. Suddenly, James stilled.

"Any of you seen Wormtail recently? I haven't seen him since lunch." He observed.

"I think he said something about feeling ill. Must've gone to the hospital wing. Hey, let's go to the kitchens!" Sirius exclaimed brightly.

Remus groaned. "We just ate! How are you still hungry?"

"We never finished though!" He protested indignantly.

"Fine, but if we're caught, you imperiused me," he snorted. Sirius glared, and they all turned to the direction of the kitchens.

None of them noticed the shadowed figure hiding behind a suit of armour. Or at least, they didn't notice them until a muttered "stupefy" was heard, and one by one, they all collapsed into darkness.

XxXxXxXxXx

Harry shot up from his position on the floor as he heard footsteps approaching. His back screamed in protest from its prolonged exposure to the lumpy stone floor.

A hooded figure appeared, levitating several shrouded bodies into Harry's small cell, before turning and leaving with a swish of black robes.

Harry rushed over to the unconscious figures, who were slowly returning to the land of the living. Their faces were suddenly revealed form beneath their school robes, and Harry suddenly felt the urge to curse Voldemort into the darkest depths of Hell.

It seemed that the Dark Lord had found another way to torture him.


	6. Chapter 6

James rolled over restlessly, proceeding to hit his head against a soft, squishy something. He groaned, and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes groggily. He heard Sirius mirroring his actions from beside him.

He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar room, and the events of the day flooded into his mind. Suddenly, he jumped up, grasping through his robes in an attempt to find his wand.

"They've taken them. Our wands, that is."

James whirled around at the unexpected voice, and was shocked to discover Professor Potter there. Remus was slumped over in the corner of the room, not appearing to have woken. Sirius was sitting up with narrowed eyes, assessing the situation with an almost Slytherin-like attitude.

"What are you doing here? Why are we here? What happened?" James asked in a rush.

"I don't know why you're here," he lied. "I don't know why I was taken here, but I know why they kept me here."

James shot him a questioning look, and Harry added, "I have some history with the Death Eaters." He glared at the floor.

"Care to elaborate?" Remus had woken, apparently.

"Not especially."

Sirius jumped in. "How long've we been out?"

Harry shrugged. "'Bout an hour, give or take."

The four teens span around at the sound of approaching footsteps. An unfamiliar Death Eater observed them through the thick lead bars on the wall, before grinning.

"I see that our honorary guests have awoken. The Dark Lord has called for your audience, and who am I to deny such a request?" He hissed tauntingly.

The Death Eater drew his wand and, with a muttered spell, the bars disappeared. More hooded figures appeared, and each of them grabbed one of the teens, using their wands to conjure robes which proceeded to be bound around their wrists.

The group were lead up numerous staircases, before finding themselves dragged in front of a set of large oak double doors.

The Death Eater who was grasping James stepped forward and rapped his knuckles thrice on the door.

After a curt "Enter," from inside, the doors were thrown open, and Harry along with the other captives found themselves being shoved into a large, overly-grand room.

What really drew Harry's attention was the high chair situated in the centre of the room- a throne, Harry realised with a jolt. Or rather, who was on it.

The Dark Lord sat stiffly on his throne, crimson eyes slitted in a cunning way as he observed the scene before him. Nagini sat at his feet, curled up as tight as seemingly possible.

Slowly, a menacing grin settled upon Voldemort's face.

"How charming. Harry Potter, how charming to see you again," he hissed, his seemingly innocent words laced with a hidden threat.

"Tom," Harry acknowledged, smiling internally as he saw the angry gleam in Voldemort's eyes.

"What a pretty picture: one big, happy family, whole again. Although, it appears we are missing someone." He turned to a Death Eater who stood on guard by the door. "Where is the Evans girl?" He growled.

The Death Eater looked mildly ashamed. "Our source was unable to locate her," he said, wincing as he noticed the Dark Lord's eyes darken.

"Never mind," Voldemort hissed, though Harry could clearly see the disguised anger in his posture. "Why should we need her, when I have all I need right here?"

Harry stepped forward unconsciously, so that he was positioned between the Marauders and Voldemort. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Tom," he snarled.

Voldemort laughed: a cold, empty sound that was devoid of amusement. "Oh, I really do, Harry Potter. Come closer, I wish to see your face as you lose your family yet again."

Harry stood his ground in defiance.

"You will regret this, Potter," Voldemort snarled. " _Crucio."_

Harry fell to the floor as the agonising curse hit him straight in the chest. White hot knives gouged his flesh and his every nerve was suddenly set aflame. Or so it felt.

Harry lay still on the floor, refusing to give Voldemort the satisfaction of his screaming. He could hear the distant sound of James, Sirius and Remus gasping. They had never witnessed the affects of the curse, only the theory behind it.

After what felt like an eternity, the curse was lifted, and Harry shakily stood up, finding himself facing directly into the heartless eyes of Voldemort, gleaming with a fierce satisfaction.

"You will return when you are in a more compliant mood. Yaxley!" The Death Eater who had brought them in stepped forwards and dragged the four teens out of the room with the assistance of several other masked figures.

Harry collapsed as he was thrown into the familiar cell, and he found himself under three pairs of concerned pairs of eyes. Surprisingly, Remus was the first to speak.

"Are you alright?"

Harry nodded slowly, though in reality that was quite the opposite of what he was feeling. His body groaned in protest as the cold stone floor beneath him.

"What was he talking about? About your parents?" James asked curiously, though his eyes contained a hint of concern.

"My parents died when I was a baby," he said, eyes turning to the floor as he felt tears prick at them. "It's a long story."

"Luckily, that seems to be just what we have right now," Sirius offered, failing to disguise his curiosity.

Harry shook his head. "You don't want to hear it. And I don't really want to talk about it."

Sirius ducked away guiltily, and Harry rolled over to face the wall as he felt tears begin to slide down his face. He wished more than anything that he could tell them.


	7. Chapter 7

Boredom was the real killer, thought James miserably.

It must have been days since they had been kidnapped, if the random times they were fed meagre meals of stale bread and water had anything to do with it. They had not been brought out of the small cell since the very first day, though James doubted that it could be much longer until their next 'meeting'.

No one had managed to draw any further information from their mysterious Defence teacher, though James felt as though he knew much more than he was letting on. He could see it in the teen's eyes.

Hunger was also a major factor in their time down in the dungeons. It was getting harder and harder to live off of their small rations they were being fed. It was something that Sirius found himself complaining frequently about too- that in itself was frustrating. Sirius could talk for Britain.

James rolled over drowsily from his position on the cold stone floor. It seemed to be growing more and more cramped in there, he thought as he bumped into the sleeping form of Remus. The aforementioned wizard groaned as his eyes fluttered open, focusing on his surroundings.

"Sorry," James murmured apologetically.

"S'fine," Remus said drowsily. The full moon was approaching, and James found himself waiting anxiously as the days ticked past. Would they manage to escape before it arrived?

"How're you doing?" James said in a hushed voice. Professor Potter looked up from his position in the corner, before returning his gaze to the bleak stone walls. He didn't seem to sleep much.

"I'm coping," Remus muttered. He hated sympathy, but he hated lying to his friends even more.

"I guess that's all we can ask for," James looked down guiltily.

Sirius had awoken, it seemed. He was speaking in hushed tones with their Professor, which was quite surprising. The man had become even more withdrawn as the days passed.

Remus stiffened as he heard footsteps approaching with his supernatural hearing. This did not go unnoticed by the other occupants of the cell, who all turned warily to face the steel barred door.

Within seconds a Death Eater approached, who James vaguely recognised as Yaxley, who had accompanied them on their last visit to Voldemort.

He grinned a feral smile, and James was immediately aware that something was different happening. There was an air about the man that just about screamed with anticipation.

"It seems that the Dark Lord requires your presence again." He sneered, "Oh, not you Potter, you're staying here." The Defence Professor glared back defiantly, but he was not match against his armed opponent. Yaxley quickly bound the three Marauders, and was now dragging them forcefully out of the cell.

James stumbled along fearfully as they approached the familiar stone doors. He had heard plenty about Voldemort from his Auror parents, but he had never faced him alone before. Even their meeting a few days before he had had Professor Potter there, but now, unarmed and with only his two best mates, he was not so confident.

The doors were thrown open, and James, Sirius and Remus were thrown to the floor before the crimson eyes of Voldemort.

XxXxXxXxXx

Dumbledore was growing extremely frustrated. Three students and a teacher had gone missing within the time gap of one day, and had not been seen for three weeks.

He had received many howlers form various parents, complaining about his supposed incompetence. He had already attended a meeting with the parents of said missing students, and all of them were frantic with worry. There was no sign of them, and Dumbledore had no idea where they could be.

He had received no further word from the anonymous source who had informed him of the meeting on the day they had been kidnapped. Dumbledore was beginning to fear the worst.

The entire school had grown quieter. It was a widely known fact of the Marauders disappearance, and the students all seemed to notice the painful absence of their daily pranks. The only people that seemed unbothered were the Slytherins - they seemed to appreciate the fact that they were no longer the frequent victims.

Dumbledore surveyed the school before him from where he sat at the head table. The Gryffindors had grown even further withdrawn from the extended absence of their prankster figureheads. It seemed that the seriousness of the war had only just hit them - they had believed it to be a far off thing that would not affect them here, and were only now realising just how vulnerable they were.

Even the loss of Professor Potter was taken with a pang in Dumbledore's heart. He was almost always silent, and never spoke up in their staff meetings. Dumbledore could admit that he had been suspicious of the man at first, but now knew the true side of him. He seemed like a good person.

It was hard to find a replacement teacher for Defence, and in the end Auror Potter (James's father) had been required to step in to fulfil the position.

Dumbledore stood up, and the entire student population fell silent. He surveyed the four tables solemnly, noting many of their downcast expressions.

"As I'm sure that the majority of you are aware, some of our students have gone missing three weeks ago. I assure you that we are doing all in our power to find them, and also that you are all assuredly safe here."

Most students were not comforted in the least by his speech as he rattled on about lowered curfews and minimising Hogsmead visits. They had been told once before how safe they were, inly to discover that it had been a lie. They would not make the same mistake again, and assume themselves to be immune.

One person who was especially unaffected by the Headmaster's speech was a seventh year sat at the Gryffindor table, gazing sadly at her plate through her locks of dark red hair. Lily Evans had only recently started dating James, but she had already grown unreasonable attached to him. It broke her heart in how useless she was in saving him, though she loathed to admit how much it was affecting her.

Her friends Alice and Frank, who were seated opposite her, exchanged knowing glances. They were aware of Lily's slight withdrawal, though they both knew that there was nothing that they could do about it. Only one person could do that.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I'm so sorry about how inactive I've been lately, but I'm dealing with a load of personal problems at the moment. I'm thinking of putting this story on hiatus, and possibly for adoption. What would y'all think?**

Harry groaned as he paced through the small, damp cell. He wanted to bash his head against the damn wall, but refrained himself from doing so. That would in no way help James, Sirius and Remus.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he reprimanded himself. Since when had he become so reckless? Opening that unmarked mail without at least casting the basic detecting charms on in. Why had he done it? He was now endangering the life of both his father and his two best friends.

He didn't want to even start thinking about the odds of him escaping. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

His head shot up as he heard oncoming footsteps, and mentally prepared himself. Best case scenario, it was a Death Eater returning with the Marauders. Worst case scenario... he didn't even want to start thinking about that.

Turns out, it was neither of the two. Down the hallway came a solitary Death Eater, head low and hooded eyes gleaming maliciously.

" _Incarcerous,"_ he murmured,and Harry found himself suddenly tied securely with thick ropes. He barely heard the next _stupefy_ that followed, but it was difficult to not notice the bright red light that shot out towards him, and then everything went black.

XxXxXxXx

James shuddered as the seemingly all-knowing eyes swept over him. They seemed to assess everything about him: his deepest desires, his greatest flaws...

He shuddered, throwing off the mental image that gave him.

Voldemort smirked at his discomfort, and it was the most ruthless, unfeeling expression James had ever seen. The Dark Lord slowly rose from his throne, taking in the identical expressions of fear that plastered James, Sirius and Remus's faces. He turned to the guard by the door.

"Leave." He ordered curtly, and the Death Eater left with only a slight hesitation. Voldemort then returned his gaze to the helpless young boys that stood before him.

"What do you know of your newest... _teacher_?" He sneered, seeming to spit the last word.

James only looked back in confusion. Why was he so interested in Professor Potter? What was so special about him?

Sirius seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "And of what interest is he to you?" He said sharply. His body language screamed defiance, although his expression told a whole other story.

Voldemort's eyes darkened. " _Crucio,"_ he hissed, and Sirius dropped to the floor, writhing painfully. His teeth were clenched tightly together, refusing to emit a sound. His eyes were screwed up, and his entire body was rigid.

After what felt like years, the curse was lifted. But Sirius did not get back up. The only evidence of him being alive was the slight twitch in his jaw.

"I will not ask again. What do you know of _Potter_?"

Remus could only stare in horror at Sirius's immobile body, and James was no better.

AN:Sorry it's so shortVoldemort flicked his wand irritably, and James was suddenly painfully aware of the coiled snake that hung around the arm of his throne.

"Are you going to answer? Or am I going to have to continue by more... _forceful_ means?"

James shivered at the obvious threat, but remained tight-lipped.

The Dark Lord laughed, a high-pitched sound with a noticeable lack of amusement. "How... _cute._ Two little boys, protecting their professor. How _noble."_ He hissed, and Nagini slowly unwound from her master's throne, making her way along the cold stone floor. James began to shake as the snake wound tightly around his leg, ripping the already tattered robes.

"Not so _Gryffindor_ now, are we?" Voldemort asked in a sadistic tone. He hissed once again impatiently, and Nagini returned once again to her master's side. James relaxed barley noticeably after his release as the blood flow returned to his leg. "Anything you'd like to add...?"

Voldemort's features morphed to triumph. "I assume, then, that he told you _nothing_? How _fascinating_. Abraxus!" The Death Eater guard stepped warily through the large doors. "Take them back to the cell!"

Abraxus stepped forward, shooting two _stupefys_ towards James and Remus, and binding Sirius's arms with conjured ropes, should he wake up.

The doors were barely closed when a cloaked figure shot forward, shooting a bright red spell to the Death Eater as he slumped to the ground. The figure turned to the three unconscious boys, before shooting a purple spell at them. And then, the four people disappeared.

XxXxXxXx

Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his chair at the Head Table in the Great Hall. The students were still noticeably more reserved than they had been prior to the numerous disappearances.

Never to say, he was shocked when an unextraordinary brown barn owl fluttered over to him. It carried a thick parchment, with only his own name visible.

The letter was dropped by the side of his plate, and Dumbledore cautiously pointed his wand at it, casting a wide array of detection charms at it- he had become even more suspicious than he had been before the kidnapping-by-letter.

When the note proved to be harmless, Dumbledore reached forward to pick it up. Opening it, all that the contents consisted of was a few numbers, with no signature.

Curious.


End file.
